On the Back

One of Walter's friends requested a copy of a picture of Walter and John Paul Vann that was hanging in Walter's office. I had never paid that much attention to it. I had no idea who John Paul Vann was. I assumed he was someone important to Walter or someone famous, but I didn't really know who he was. That is, until the funeral. Ed Babbin, who spoke at Walter's funeral about his military service, mentioned JP Vann and Walter's friend, Lanny McMinn, also mentioned him. I took the picture off the wall to make a copy and found an article from the June 19, 1972 issue of Time  entitled "Death of a Perfectionist." It was an article that briefly described John Paul Vann's involvement in Vietnam and his untimely death in a helicopter crash during a night flight to Kontum, South Vietnam. This made me do a little research on JP Vann.

He was an outspoken critic of the way the United States handled the war in Vietnam. This outspoken, on-record, criticism is what cost him his military career, but also what made him the most influential American citizen in Vietnam. A couple of quotes from JPV: "It is not true that we are here to solve problems, sir. WE are the problem." and when in 1967 he was asked by a Johnson adviser and advocate for sending additional U. S. troops if he believed the worst of the fighting would be over in six months, he replied, "Oh hell no, Mr. Rostow, I'm a born optimist. I think we can hold out longer than that." Walter's friend Mr. McMinn told me that Walter told him that he knew JP Vann would die over there, he just hoped he was home before it happened. He was, but not long before. This is one of those things that I wish I had known to ask about before Walter died. I know he had some interesting stories about this time period, which he never shared with me because I never thought to ask.

 Walter is in the center with the champagne glass. John Paul Vann is on the right. The inscription reads, "To 'Tiger' Atkins (sic) - whose sober appearance belies his 'swinging' reputation. John Paul Vann 3 Dec. 1970"

Senior moments

I'm not talking about the type of senior moments that leave you wondering why you came into a room. Instead I am talking about the senior moments that occur during your last year of your high school education. The one that you will always measure a person's age by, like " I think she graduated in 1971, so she is probably getting close to retirement." Tonight was a senior moment for Steven.

Tonight was his last home basketball game of his high school career. The gym was full of cheering fans - and they lost. JCCHS Played Holy Family, a team they lost to earlier in the season. Steven had high hopes and a conviction that they could win tonight. They came close, even taking the lead for a short time right before half time. However, by the end of the game, the margin was much greater.

Steven always is disappointed when the team loses. He feels that they could win every game. He has such a spirit about him. He doesn't play most of the game, but doesn't care as long as they win. Tonight was different. His last game in front of the home crowd. He wanted to play and he wanted to win. He thought that he had a chance to play more because it was senior night and the seniors REALLY wanted to win this game. When neither of those things happened, he was sorely disappointed.

Nothing hurts a mother's heart quite like seeing your child's heart get broken. It doesn't matter if it is a girlfriend or a basketball game that does it. If only we could smoothe the road for them. Instead, we can only hurt for them, cry with them, and hug them tight.

I couldn't be prouder of Steven's performance on the basketball team if he had scored every point John Carroll made. He has such a good attitude and team spirit. He is a leader and is always the first one off the bench to congratulate or encourage his teammates. He knows every play and everybody's position. He has real insight in issues the team experiences. This year has been a tough one. One team member quit in the middle of the season. Another team member lost his academic eligibility. They struggled to pull together to play as a team. Steven didn't get the amount of playing time he wanted or felt he deserved. Through all of this, Steven kept his chin up and his attitude positive. That attitude and perseverance is what will serve him much more in life than scoring points in high school basketball.

Steven, I love you son and am so proud of you. I hope the rest of your senior moments are good ones.

The Stuff We Keep

I have been handling a lot of "suff" lately, cleaning out Walter's houses, clearing out my own house, and going through Daddy's papers for the hundreth time. Starting with my own "stuff." I worked for at least two hours cleaning out my walk-in closet so that I could actually walk in it. I filled three boxes with clothes and shoes that I didn't or couldn't wear any loner. I organized my blouses/tops/sweaters by color. After doing this, I realized that even after filling three boxes, I still have so many that I hardly have enough space on that rod to see what I have in my closet. There is something wrong with that. I need to apply the one in and one out rule. I have so much more cleaning out to do. I want to take one room at a time and give away or throw out about half of the "stuff" in my house. I think that with less clutter, it would be so much easier to keep the house clean, which would let me relax at home.

My sister and I realize now that Walter was almost as bad of a hoarder as our father is, he just had more space to store it. We have thrown out bags of paper. He kept every piece of mail and the envelope that it came in. Now, having said that, I have found a couple of very interesting things that I am really glad he didn't through out. He had a cigar box of letters that my grandmother had originally kept (I guess hoarding is three generations deep). They were letters that he or my dad wrote when they were overseas during WWII and the Korean War. She also had kept newspaper articles about Walter's heroism that earned him the Bronze Star. He also had the letter sent to my grandmother on the event of her retirement from teaching in 1952 after 32 1/2 years. The letter showed that she was going to receive $52.24 per month in retirement.

Daddy is still looking for his checkbook he lost somewhere downstairs three weeks ago. He has looked through the same stack of papers 30 times. It is still not in there.

Happy New Year

As a year ends and a new one begins, I think most people reflect on the past year and wonder what the new one will hold. I have done this and must begin by counting my blessings. Bill seized the opportunity to start his own business and it is going very well. He is much happier, which is worth all of the time he puts in. John started the year off great by starting law school. Then his and Jordan's wedding was wonderful. David survived the tornado, which was such a blessing. Jobs can be replaced, but sons can't. Steven made the varsity basketball team and seems to have a good idea of what he wants to study and do with his life. I have spent much time with my family, which has been a blessing, even though the reasons I have seen so much of them has not always been.

2011 also held some very difficult times, the most significant was Walter's death. I miss him. Daddy is now confined to a wheelchair, a difficult thing for him to accept and obviously brings many difficulties for him. Because I changed grade levels at school, I am missing the commeradarie of my friends in seventh grade. It has been much more difficult than I anticipated. I had to have my fourth surgery to repair a pelvic floor prolapse. I pray that it is the last one I will ever need. On the positive side, the surgery was actually much easier than the last couple have been.

Looking forward to 2012 will certainly have many changes in store for our family. Walter left Delores and me money and land in his Will. This should make our lives easier in the long run, but because I am executor of his estate, I am going to be very busy. I am more than a little nervous about it. Steven will be going off to college. Our nest will be empty. It is hard to imagine what that is going to be like.

Changes that I want to make this year include taking better care of myself. I have to carve out time to exercise. I need to eat more healthily. Hopefully, doing those two things will help me lose a few pounds. I want to do more counting of my blessings and letting go of my troubles. I also would like to let go of a lot of "things" and live more simply with less clutter and excess.

Out with the old and in with the new. I am looking forward to working on myself this year. I want to be happier and I know only I can make that happen. "God bless us, every one."

Walter's Story of His Closest Brush with Death - to date

Last June I was at Walter's when he told me the story of what he believes to be the closest he had ever come to death. He was assigned the duty of escorting a South Vietnamese general as he was viewing the troops. According to Walter the General only looked at the troops and nothing more. I asked Walter how he communicated with the General. He said the General spoke some English and French fluently. Walter spoke, or more understood, some French.

They were in a helicopter leaving one location where American troops were located. In the helicopter were two aviators (Walter's words, I call them pilots), two "kids" with guns at the doors, the General, and Walter. As the helicopter rises, once they get above 1,500 feet, the doors can be closed because the gunfire from the ground can't hit the helicopter. That is unless they have bigger guns, which they almost never had. This time just as they were above 1,500 feet and closed the door, they were hit by gunfire. He said it sounds like gravel being thrown at and hitting the metal sides of the helicopter. The rotors were damaged and the helicopter started an immediate fall. The pilot told Walter to feel the control stick, which was shaking violently. Walter said he thought they were going to die because he had witnessed many helicopters that were in this very situation explode upon impact. Thankfully the pilot was able to set the helicopter down in a rice paddy. He came down hard and took a hop forward. As the helicopter hit, Walter grabbed the General by the shirt and yanked him out of the door of the helicopter, rolled, and jumped up and ran to the hill over the rice paddy. He said the General didn't know what was going on because he could not understand all of the excited talk inside of the helicopter. As soon as the helicopter came to rest, the two gunners grabbed the guns and followed Walter and the General to the hill to fire upon whoever was firing on them.

I asked him how they got out of there. He said that the Marines came to the rescue. Almost immediately Marine helicopters appeared. The Army helicopters soon arrived and picked up the General. Walter and the two gunners stayed with the helicopter until the Army crane helicopter came to pick up the one that had been damaged.

Walter said we were lucky as hell that day. I sure am glad that he was the one to be able to tell me that story.

I have a few other stories that I wrote drafts of some months ago that I will be publishing now. I want anyone who wants to know about Walter to be able to read them.

Goodbye

We all know that we have to leave this earthly body one day. Most of us hope to go in our sleep when we are old and have lived a long, full life. If that was my Uncle Walter's hope, then I would have to say that he got his wish. His full life included his escape from the farm by getting an appointment to the Military Academy. He was a cadet there when Pearl Harbor was bombed. He served in three wars. He worked for the CIA during the Kennedy era. He visited every continent. He Enjoyed life, then at the age of 49, married the love of his life, a beautiful woman 18 years his junior. After his last tour of duty in Vietnam, they picked up his new Corvette on their way to Leavenworth, where he was promoted to Colonel. After his military career was over, he designed his farmhouse, built it, and moved back to the family farm, where he and Jackie established a happy life with new friends and friends from years long before. He received his PhD in political science from the University of Alabama. He taught there for a while until he decided he didn't enjoy teaching students to whom he couldn't give orders. (I have to admit I totally understand this decision.) He wrote two historical fiction novels. He won many awards and honors in and after the military. And, finally, he was the coolest uncle, ever. He always drove the coolest cars and sent the best gifts. He was always sending home interesting items from exotic places for us to hold for him till he got back home. He flew himself home in a plane. He wore a uniform. He was somehow mysterious because we saw him so seldom and he was very different from my dad.

Even though he lived a long and full life, there was sadness and many trials. We were all shocked when Jackie died. That was never in his plan. In fact he had planned extensively to take care of her after he was gone. He missed her terribly. He certainly had to endure many indignities of old age, which was difficult for someone who was private and dignified as he.

Even though I know he was ready to go, it is always hard to say goodbye even after a long and full life. He was the keeper of the family history. Even though I tried to glean as much as I could from him over the past few years, there is no way to know what he knew. He always taught me something everytime we talked. I will miss our daily phone calls on my way to work. I will miss asking him about this and that about local and family history. I will miss his crooked, smirky smile. I will miss him.

Sam's Turn

Last week as I was driving my dad to get his blood checked, the conversation turned to government housing projects. I have no idea how, but it did. Anyway, we talked about his Aunt Verna who lived in Elyton Village when I was young. I loved going to her apartment because at the time, I didn't know anyone else who lived in an apartment. Her apartment was so cool because it had an upstairs. I also didn't know anyone else who had a two-story house. I remember playing on the steel barrier poles that kept cars from driving on the grass between the apartments. I remember the little courtyard off the kitchen. Everything about it was small and wonderful to a small child as myself.

I didn't know that my mother's sister, Aunt Agnes, also lived in government housing at one time. This led Daddy into telling the story of how he met my mother. He said that the night before my Uncle Buddy, my mother's only brother, and my Dad's best friend, Roland Lucas a.k.a "Runt", left for boot camp during WWII, they both went to Aunt Agnes and Uncle Gene's apartment to eat dinner. My mother was at the apartment that night as well. My Dad was already serving in the Aleutian Islands. After both my Dad and Runt had been overseas during the War, they were both home on leave at the same time. Runt had used some of the money he earned in the Navy to buy him a new car. He and Daddy were driving around Montevallo showing off Runt's new car, when Runt saw Agnes and my mother coming out of the Dime Store in Montevallo. The Dime Store was in the building where Smitherman's Pharmacy is now. Runt said, "I know them," and turned the car around so to show off his car and introduce my Dad to Agnes and my mother. My dad said when he saw my mom, he thought, "I want to get to know that pretty gal." Runt told my mother that when she met my Dad she started at his feet and moved her eyes from his feet to the top of his head. My mother was relatively tall and wanted a tall man. She found one. Runt, as you might have guessed, was quite small in stature, probably no taller than 5' 5" and my dad is a full foot taller. Well the rest is history as they say. My mom and dad began dating and got married in 1948 at the parsonage of Enon Baptist Church.